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I can’t shake the memories, though.
He was inside me.
Inside me.
I may have managed to stop him before he went deeper, but he still invaded my body in a way I’ve never let anyone before.
And then the bastard asked me to dinner.
I might think it was a cruel joke coming from anyone else, but something about his request was shockingly genuine, as if he actually wanted to hang out with me after what he’d done.
What a psycho.
Shaking my head to clear it, I try to push Silvan far from my mind so I can get some sleep.
___
I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding in my chest.
I’m sweating, and the sheets are bunched up around me.
In my dream, I was trapped in that room with him again, and even though I’m awake now and alone in my bedroom, the panic won’t leave me.
It feels like he’s here with me right now.
I close my eyes and breathe, trying to slow my heart down, but it’s no use.
I don’t feel safe like someone who managed to escape.
I still feel like I’m in his clutches.
Helpless anger wells up inside me. I refuse to be so fragile that some stranger at a party can make me feel like this.
It doesn’t matter, I tell myself.
Hedoesn’t matter.
I desperately want that to be true, but no matter how thorough I was with my toothbrush, I can still taste him in my mouth. No matter how roughly I scrubbed at my hair and skin in the shower, I can still feel his firm grip on the back of my head, his warm hands cupping my breasts.
Dammit.
I all but throw my comforter aside and get out of bed.
I head to the kitchen for a glass of water, turning on every light as I go and flinching at the brightness of the first one. If Mom were awake, she would yell at me for wasting electricity, but I can’t stand to walk around in the dark right now.
It’s absurd, but I feel like he’s still lurking, watching me like he was earlier at the party.
I sit at the small kitchen table with my glass of water. My gaze drifts to the windows. It’s so dark outside, I can’t see anything. Rationally, I know there’s nothing out there to see, but a chill travels down my spine anyway.
I’m being silly. I’m safe here in my house.
No one can get in.
No one is out therewantingto get in.
Just to be safe, though, I get up and double-check the locks on the front door.
Feeling marginally safer, I go back to the kitchen table andgrab my water. I don’t want to be out here anymore. I feel exposed out here even though I know I’m not.
